Breaking Barriers
by Flaming-Bee
Summary: A string of alarming 'incidents' has left Severus under obligation to attend regular appointments with a St Mungo's psychiatrist. He doubted he'd have been receptive to anyone's attempts to analyse him - but the fact Hermione Granger was given free rein to do so only made everything worse. AU, Snape is alive post-War. Will become HGxSS. Rating subject to change.


Severus Snape was not a man known to be easily shaken. He'd survived nearly two decades worth of dual allegiance to two of the most powerful wizards of all time, the attempt on his life by what had been argued to be the deadliest snake known to man and, in his opinion the epitome of impressive, the endless stream of utter imbeciles finding their way into his classroom throughout his teaching career. All of this and he was still standing strong and, given the circumstances, in rather good health by his own diagnosis. Sadly not everyone seemed satisfied to have his own opinion as the be all and end all, or else he would've convinced Minerva there was absolutely no need for him to be within a mile radius of the Psychiatry wing of St Mungo's, a novelty added a couple of years after the Battle of Hogwarts in response to the increased number of psychological illnesses within the Wizarding community and, according to a series of gaudy advertisements, currently leading up to its tenth 'birthday'.

It was not a new development, he had been experiencing nightmares for a number of years even prior to the Battle and he knew he was perfectly capable of handling these solo. However recently there'd been a fresh string of incidents – none resulting in anything he'd consider serious – that had left the Headmistress questioning whether her Defence professor was coping as well as he insisted. In Severus's mind, her demanding he start therapy had been a complete overreaction to the close call with a rogue stinging hex and a group of first years, but for once his reassurance had done nothing to sway the woman from her decision.

And so here he was, walking down a carpeted corridor that carried a smell not unlike a mixture of bleach and body odour, making sure any passing personnel received his signature scowl as his long strides advanced him toward the waiting room. Upon entry, he was met by the sight of a small wooden desk behind which sat a young witch wearing a bored expression as she filed her lime green nails, half-heartedly flicking through Witch Weekly. It was difficult not to snigger at the ridiculous shade of neon yellow the girl had her hair, the black lipstick and heavy eye liner doing nothing to distract from it. Her attention was still on the pages in front of her when he walked up and, impatient to get this unnecessary ordeal over with, loudly cleared his throat.

She raised her eyebrow at the sound, not bothering to look up. "If you've got an appointment, take a seat and the doctor will come fetch you after her previous appointment. If not, get lost."

Even though she still hadn't looked up, Severus gave her a furious glower out of habit and reluctantly moved over to a small cluster of plastic seats, choosing that furthest from the desk and the repugnant girl behind it. The corridor itself had been lined with a handful of doors that no doubt hid the offices for the few practicing wizards and witches in the department but, as he recalled, there hadn't been any names he recognized printed across them so he was unsure who Minerva's 'special contact' was that she'd organized to see him. Psychiatry required a person to qualify as a Healer before then taking a further two years to study the muggle theories of psychology, meaning it wasn't a popular pursuit for those starting out in a medical career – it took enough time to qualify without adding another course on top and the younger generation favoured the quicker route in his experience.

The sounds of a door opening drifted into the waiting room and caused his senses to jump to attention. Now alert, he could recognise polite exchanges followed by another click and two sets of footsteps, which were swiftly revealed to be those of a little old woman with a ridiculously over-sized purple hat being led to the front desk by none other than…

"Granger?"

Hermione looked up and gave him a brief smile, not at all startled by his presence, before continuing to discuss something with what was no doubt her previous patient. She somehow managed to capture the attention of the ill-mannered receptionist, passing across a couple of post-it notes and then leaving the two, no doubt to settle on another appointment, as she made her way toward him. He'd not seen the girl in nearly a decade, when she was a skinny little thing with a childish roundness to her face and a mess of curly-frizz on her head. Now the Gryffindor had undeniably grown up, her dark work robes giving hint to a plumper figure beneath, her face now sharper and more defined, whilst her once wild hair was pinned pack into a neat up-do.

"Professor Snape," her gentle smile was still fixed as she greeted him. "I'd almost forgotten you'd be coming in today. In fact, I half expected I would find myself reporting your absence to Minerva when you decided not to show up."

It took a moment for his mind to catch up to her words, wholly unnerved by the morphed attitude of the girl who had once trembled at the mere mention of his name. "So then… _you're_ my therapist?"

"Psychiatrist. And it certainly appears so. Now, if you'd be kind enough to follow me, sir."

Still on edge, he nonetheless stood and hesitantly followed the woman, at a loss as to what else he could do. They passed the yellow-haired girl at reception, a little way beyond the dank beige carpeting to a door – the standard mahogany with a gilded handle – and he caught himself frowning at the golden script which had deceived him, the name _'Healer I.W. Phillips'_ etched into the wood obviously not corresponding to the inhabitant.

"I'm actually supposed to be in the office across from him, but Healer Burts isn't retiring until this Friday and Healer Phillips had already scheduled holiday for this fortnight so he was kind enough to let me use the space until his return. We'll be in the other room for any future appointments."

He had remained in the doorway giving her a suspicious look as she sat with a clipboard in a plush red armchair, alongside which was a worn maroon couch Severus was no doubt expected to sit on.

"I would suggest closing the door might be a good idea, most people prefer privacy for their sessions." The aggravating sing-song tone of what was no doubt her 'therapy' voice irked him already and they hadn't even begun. His dark eyes were still narrowed, fixed on her patronising smile as he reluctantly shut himself in, with what he considered the enemy, and moved to perch on the edge of the sofa furthest from her. "Wonderful. Now, Minerva informed me-"

"When did you start calling the Headmistress by her Christian name, Granger?" Severus found himself growing more highly strung every second in the woman's presence, particularly since everything he did had no effect on her sunny demeanour. She was too much changed from the student he remembered for his liking and it was difficult to accept he no longer had the upper-hand; that grin had yet to falter.

"It's actually Weasley now, it has been for nearly eight years." She paused to tuck a loose strand of hair behind one ear with a steady hand, not at all unsettled by his sour mood. "And to answer your question, Minerva and I have been in correspondence for a considerable amount of time prior to her request that I take you on as a patient – we've become rather good friends since I ceased being a pupil." There was a steady silence as she watched him for any sign of response but he refrained. "Now, as I was saying, she informed me you've been having a bit of trouble recently with hallucinations during the day. Can I ask whether you remember when the first incident occurred?"

He chose to blatantly ignore the question, desperate to gain some feeling of normality or dominance back by cracking her. "If you've not got your own office yet, you can't have qualified very recently." The familiar pleasure of rattling a student washed over him, Hermione's cheeks colouring as she visibly squirmed at the observation.

"I qualified when I took my exam in summer."

"Then why has it taken till November for you to do something with it?"

Her body language had altered – she was no longer casually reclined in her seat, instead her back rigid, her expression indignant. "There wasn't an available position at St Mungo's until this month."

"Why not just go somewhere else?"

"This isn't a field with an abundance of job opportunities."

He scoffed, suppressing his delight at the clipped way she spoke, indication she was struggling to keep her cool. "You're telling me there wasn't a single other position you could've taken up until now."

Hermione raised one eyebrow. "Not that would've accommodated my needs. I don't like to commute too far and Ron is still splitting himself between the Ministry and the joke shop, one of us has to be able to be a bit more flexible with their hours." He internally cursed at the fact she'd managed to calm her flaring temper. "Now if you don't mind, Professor, this session is supposed to be focused on your life, not my own."

"I'm naturally inquisitive – it's not my fault you're so desperate to share."

That ridiculous false smile was now back on her face, however as she looked him over her eyes were calculating. "Yes, well I think I best stop indulging your need to avoid the topic of conversation and get back to the point. Do you remember the first incident?"

"Of course."

"Would you be willing to recount it?"

"I feel that would be a pointless exercise when you've clearly got it written down in front of you."

A small smirk twisted her lips. "I think you're probably bright enough to know I would like to hear your specific account of events so as to compare them with the Headmistress's description. Not to mention that she couldn't tell me what you _saw_ when this all happened, which is quite key to finding a solution."

A bizarre twitch had decided to manifest itself at the left corner of his mouth. "And you just expect I'm going to willingly divulge everything to you?"

Hermione simply shrugged, her grin now a little more genuine than before. "Oh, I expect quite the opposite. But I get paid by Minerva no matter how little you say and, since these appointments are completely confidential, she'll never known whether she's paying me to listen to your deepest secrets or sit in awkward silence for an hour a week."

Severus looked at her with distaste, though he was aggravated to find the comments quite entertaining. "How very Slytherin of you."

She crinkled her nose. "Oh, you're right." She let out a little sigh, still smiling. "In fact, I'm almost positive I couldn't bring myself to take the money if it actually turns out we sat here doing nothing the whole hour." He knew he must've rolled his eyes because she giggled. "Yes, I'm pathetically honest. Apologies if it offends you."

He remained silent as she watched him with open curiosity, a dangerous thing to do by most people's reckoning, before sifting through the papers on her clipboard and humming a tone-deaf version of a Celestina Warbeck song. Why Minerva thought it was a good idea to send him to an ex-pupil, one of Potter's pals nonetheless, was beyond him. Then again she never could see how anyone could hold a grudge against her precious little Gryffindor golden girl back in the 90s, so why should it be any different in the new millennium.

"You know," Hermione piped up again as she continued to scribble various lines and annotations on the pages in front of her. "Minerva expressed concern over your sleeping habits too – is that a recent development as well or have you struggled with insomnia prior to the hallucinating?"

Taken-aback at the information, he snapped instinctively. "How the hell would she know if I've slept or not?!"

Her snort of amusement irked him. "I assume due to the large bags under your eyes, given the _charming_ attitude is part of your usual demeanour." The woman finally looked up to meet his gaze again with a sympathetic look. "She hasn't sent you here as punishment, Professor. She merely wants you to be well again. As do I."

A sneer blossomed on Severus's face. "I can't believe you actually got a degree to spew this drivel at people."

"I can't believe you think constant diversion will in any way stop me from trying to take these sessions seriously." Hermione was yet again unshakeable, much to his frustration. "I understand that it is a big ask for you to even turn up to counselling appointments in the first place and I know that our previous teacher-pupil interaction probably makes it even more difficult for you, allowing me to see you in a position of vulnerability when your dislike for me is probably only rivalled by that you hold for my husband or Harry. But I'm no longer an annoying, swot of a Gryffindor waving her hand around in your lessons, you can't cling to that perception. I am a qualified professional who is trying to help you cope and I really believe it would benefit you if you could bring yourself to actively participate in the discussion."

There was a pause before he responded again. "Was that impromptu speech supposed to be impressive?"

He'd wanted her to huff in exasperation, her face to grow red with anger, maybe even for her eyes to grow misty; he knew the younger version of her, the version he was familiar with, would've reacted accordingly. Instead he got a sad smile that made him feel about two inches tall as she leant toward him, elbows resting on her knees. "If you think that, as a thirty one year old mother of two with a caring husband and budding career, I'm still desperate to seek the approval of my previous Potions professor then I'm afraid I'll have to shatter that illusion for you. I simply wished to make sure you understood how great of an opportunity this could be if you were willing to allow yourself the help you deserve." He could feel his muscles twitching uncomfortably beneath her steady gaze. "We're no longer at war, Severus. You don't have to do everything alone."

Another uncomfortable silence, or at least on his end, hung between them. "Did you just refer to me as _Severus_?" The tone of his voice was unbearably acidic but she was not deterred.

"Indeed." Hermione reclined in the armchair again with a neutral expression. "I feel it will help you to re-categorise me as your psychiatrist, an equal of sorts, if I refer to you more informally. Plus you've not taught me in over a decade – Professor hardly seems appropriate."

He was unsure whether she had impressed or infuriated him with this ridiculous attempt to display her dominance, to try and wield her power now he'd been thrust under her scrutiny by Minerva (who was in for hell the moment he returned to Hogwarts). Either way, he felt his cold death stare would be far more effective than any cutting words he might've been able to muster at that point. He refused, of course, to acknowledge she was only doing the exact same thing he'd wanted to do but with far more success.

"Look, I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable but for this to work I need both your acceptance of my credentials and your willingness to try and communicate. Normally keeping the patient at ease is a primary concern, but in this case I think the first step needs to be you understanding that the moment we enter this room I am no long Hermione Granger, or Weasley, your ex-pupil, best friend of Harry Potter, one of your _favourite_ trio." Her attempt at sarcasm did nothing to sooth him. "I'm just a person, a healer, who's here to listen to you without judgement and decide upon what action we might be able to take in order to to improve your quality of life. Nothing spoken here will ever be repeated to anyone. You understand that?"

His dark eyes darted across the lines of her face, the sharp angle of her jaw, the determined set of her lips, the light crinkles framing the earnest hazel irises that met his with an eerie calm. "How much word vomit will I have to endure from you before I can leave?"

The hopeful sparkle of her eyes dimmed a little at the words, but the fake smile returned as she checked her watch. "You're a quarter of the way through."

A non-committal grunt was his response and she seemed to take this as a dismissal, reaching for a self-inking quill and adding various symbols, possibly her own shorthand, to the parchment in her lap at irregular intervals. For some reason Severus found the lack of sound, bar the steady scratching of her writing, far worse than her insistent babbling but was aware that without some sort of prompt from himself it wouldn't happen.

"You're really going to make me sit here the entire hour?"

She didn't even bother to look up, mirroring the earlier actions of her receptionist. "I've been paid for an hour, you'll receive an hour of my attention."

"I don't want your bloody attention! I want you to send me on my way, then tell the Headmistress that I'm perfectly able-minded and to mind her own business in future."

Hermione paused in her diligent note-taking, setting down the materials on the arm of the chair with a warm smile. "That's a perfectly natural response, a lot of people take a while before they're ready to admit they need to be here." She was unfazed by his angry glare. "The fact you even showed up shows huge progression already. You should be proud."

"Don't." He scoffed at the supposed praise. "I'm not a toddler who needs constant coddling and I certainly don't need false encouragement. It should be quite clear I only bothered to come here because my job was at risk if I did not."

"Well, I must agree you're not a toddler – with two of my own I'm certain of that." She grinned before cocking her head to one side, reminiscent of a curious spaniel. "What makes you think the encouragement is false?"

"I've given you fuck all to work with, that's what." His sneer was poor at hiding his discomfort with the whole situation. "Two toddlers?"

She nodded. "Rose will be five in January, Hugo turned three at the end of September. They're terrors in their own right, but the pair of them together cause complete havoc." Severus watched the distant, dreamy pride shimmer in her eyes, that seen in nearly all parents when they spoke about their children, before it was replaced by her apparent default of neutrality. "Do you not think that merely having a chance to view your responses to being questioned first-hand is in some way helpful to me?"

He was unimpressed by the supposed revelation. "You expect me to believe that my mere presence is reason enough for praise?"

"Most definitely." The hazel gaze slowly took him in. "Now, if you're not yet able to try and answer any of my inquiries then I suggest you use this time constructively, go through things so their clear in your own mind. I expect you to be more responsive when we next meet and have had a proper chance to digest everything."

And with that came the returned scrabbling of pen against paper, a heaviness flaring in the pit of Severus's stomach as he was forced to recognise he would not be able to worm his way out of this like he'd planned. He was stuck with an entire hour in the company of one of his most maddening past students indefinitely, with the expectation to spill his soul and have some sort of wondrous revelation that would magically solve all his problems. But the damage he harboured was too great, had gone too long hidden beneath the surface, for this novice's feeble attempts to have any effect whatsoever, he was certain.

Hermione Granger could not heal him.

And quite frankly, he'd made it half a century without relying on anyone but himself to get through everything. Why should this be any different?

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 _Hello all! First off, thanks for reading – I'm currently in the process of writing another HGxSS fanfiction (Against Expectations) and then this idea came into my mind and I really wanted to write it, so voila! I'm not sure how long this story will be, but I think I know the direction I'll be taking it. And don't worry, I will warn you I am absolutely abysmal at frequent updates but I will never abandon a story without notice, so as far as you need be concerned this is simply slowly progressing. The rating is subject to change, but I'll warn you at the beginning of a chapter if I think a particularly sensitive part of the story has come up. I've put a NextGen fic on hiatus for the sole fact that at the moment my mind is running on HGxSS inspiration so I'd say you can expect this story to be updated alongside Against Expectations, seeing as they're my only two stories to focus on._

 _Reviews are definitely a driving force in my continuing this story so please, let me know what you thought. I also don't mind PMs if you prefer contacting that way and make the effort to respond :)_


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